by V. F. Mason
Although he lacked the intensity Damian had, they both shared the same DNA and obsession toward the women they considered theirs. When push came to shove, my choice was nonexistent. I could either play the victim in this scenario, turning our lives into hell, or accept it and mold him to the idea of a relationship I had for us.
Closing my eyes, my body still burned from our make-out session.
Dominic Konstantinov was the pakhan of the Bratva. And I’d finally decided to accept his claim, even though no one asked me in the first place.
Man with the dragon tattoo
A warm blanket was draped over my shoulders as I sipped water while paramedics checked my pulse and shouted for someone to get more help, because the house had a lot of victims. The firemen struggled with the blazes and did their best to put them out while cops took statements from anyone uninjured.
They counted bodies, no survivors so far.
Fuck, this called for a whole bottle of champagne along with few illegal whores sucking my cock. Soon.
A shout from one of the firefighters snapped me from my dreams. “One man alive.” Medics rushed in the direction of Rosa’s room, or rather what used to be her room, as my ears struggled to understand who they found. “Two men breathing, actually.” With adrenalin pumping in my blood, I dropped the blanket and followed them. In all this panic, no one would notice how much I faked my injury.
Two gurneys came from the back of the house with paramedics moving as fast as possible, while IV drips were attached to both men’s hands and breathing masks were placed over their noses and mouths.
Rising on my toes, they passed by me like lightning, but not before I had the time to check out their faces.
Don.
Fucking Don was alive, along with that fuckup, Lorenzo.
The desire to roar in rage had to be pushed down deep. I feared a vein would rupture in my neck because I strained so much.
Hard fucking and body chopping tonight. Time to pick up some whore on the street, so no one would care when she went missing.
One way or the other, the throne would be mine.
I just had to come up with a better plan.
Hugging my knees closer to my chest, I basked in the warmth the fire provided as Marty threw more paper inside the rusted bowl. The worn out coat I found in the dumpster near the museum on one of my ‘feeding the company’ days provided good enough warmth to my body along with the jeans, sweater, scarf, and leather shoes Duncan got me from some shelter he passed by. Although winter in Austin wasn't as cold as New York, according to Marty, somehow it still chilled me to my bones. Plus, we didn't have many blankets, so yeah.
“How is that face of yours? Healing fine?” Marty asked, passing me a marshmallow. They found the used pack on the ground and insisted on roasting them on sticks over the fire. Turned out they were delicious, and somehow the taste stirred memories, but I couldn't catch them. Maybe I used to do it before?
“Yeah, thanks for that.”
He waved his hand. “No need, kiddo.”
I had lived with them for three months. Marty tended all my wounds and scouted pharmacies for medication. Thankfully, one girl who worked at one took pity on him and supplied him with the necessary items for free. Because I couldn’t go to hospital, it took longer than usual for me to get better.
“Good thing the man left you here,” Duncan added, placing a cup with steaming tea in my hand. “Who knows what would have happened.” The gratefulness I felt for those two men couldn't ever be described.
Duncan used to be a police officer, but after his wife died, he drank too much, to the point of losing his home, his relatives, and his purpose. He met Marty in his third year on the streets. Marty ended up here due to gambling debts. He used to be a good doctor, but money was tight, so he started to play. But then the addiction kicked in, and he couldn't stop until he lost everything.
So yeah, we all had something in common. Life really played a number on us.
“Thank you.” Shrugs and “no worries” erupted as I raised my eyes to the dark sky filled with stars and wondered what Damian was doing.
Did he live a better life than me? Was he happy? Alive?
My heart tugged painfully as I remembered his strong presence and the love running deep between us.
I hope you’re happy, brother.
And sure as fuck hoped he didn't live on the streets.
Dominic
Watching your woman sleep peacefully and knowing you had to disturb her was both painful and pleasurable at the same time.
The small room on the plane had all the necessities for comfortable flying: a bathroom with a shower and all the toiletries for both sexes, a closet with my suits, a bedside lamp, plus a bed with fucked-up pillows. My neck stayed sore from them, so I was glad she slept with her hand under her cheek.
She lay on her side, exposing her black, lacy lingerie, which drove me fucking mad with need. She wore my white shirt buttoned only in the middle, so I had a great view of her magnificent body. Her tanned skin glowing under the light from the sunset just begged to be kissed as her chest rose and fell with her breathing.
Slowly striding to the bed, I put my knee on the mattress and pushed up, placing the palms of my hands on each side of her head while straddling her thighs. Leaning down, my lips covered her neck and collarbone in soft kisses, nipping on the skin lightly, enjoying her taste. Inhaling her lavender scent, my nose nuzzled the mounds of her fucking glorious full breasts, and to my surprise, the bra holding them together opened from the front. Removing one cup, I licked around the pointed peak, tugged lightly, and then shifted to the other one, repeating my action. Rosa stirred. Her lids snapped open as our eyes locked, her hazel ones confused then darkening with yearning as her back arched to me.
“You came back,” she whispered, then gasped as my fingers dug into her shapely thighs. I grabbed them painfully, circling them around my waist.
“Soft as fucking silk,” I murmured, sliding lower and biting her abdomen then licking her navel and tracing my tongue down to her delicious pussy. Pushing her panties to the side, I entered her tight opening with my tongue, tasting her honey, groaning into it, licking her lips, and biting her pussy.
“Dominic,” she moaned, her hands clenching the sheets under her. Exposing her clit with my thumbs, I sucked on it hard as she cried out. I slid two fingers into her, trying to find the perfect spot I’d heard about but never bothered to find. Wiggling them a bit more, I worked them in sync with my mouth for the next few moments. Her breath hitched. She arched her back higher, and a loud sob echoed in the room as she fell on her back, breathing heavily as her orgasm hit her.
Guess I found it after all.
Giving my pussy one last lick and a kiss, I sat on my knees, opening my belt buckle and lowering the zipper of my pants while her hooded eyes watched. My hands took out my hard-as-fucking-steel dick, and her eyes widened, either from how angry red it looked or from the size.
Bigger than average, as some whores used to tell me, once again, not that I listened or gave a damn. “See how hard it is?” She nodded, as I wrapped a tight fist around it, groaning in pleasure as it sent jolts to my balls. “All for you.” She licked her lips, probably not even aware of it. “No, my krasavica, you can’t have a lick.” A sound of disappointment escaped her. “I won’t have your first time blowing me in a fucking plane, where my men could hear you tasting me like some kind of candy.” I’d have to kill Vitya and Michael, and for the sake of my friendship with them, I preferred to stay sane.
“Can I touch it instead?”
Fuck, just the idea of her delicate fingers giving me much-needed relief made me almost come in my fucking pants, but I nodded. Taking her open palm, I licked it and placed it on my hardened flesh.
She curiously ran her fingers up and down, studying the sensitive skin of the head and swiping her thumb over it as cum leaked from the tip. “Please,” she pleaded, as her eyes flashed with lust. How could I say no to my woman?
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br /> “Just a taste.” She sucked her finger and groaned in pleasure, closing her eyes and savoring me.
Nothing, and I mean nothing, in this fucked up life of mine was sexier than my krasavica begging me to give her permission to pleasure me.
But no matter how much my dick throbbed, I had to save it for a different moment. I had to deliver important news to her. She distracted me with the sleeping temptation of her body, but she wouldn’t appreciate me delaying for pleasure, if she knew what happened back in New York.
Zipping my pants back up to her protest, I lay on my back and lifted her up, so she straddled my thighs and her tits pressed into my chest. My fingers laced through her hair, our lips a breath away from each other.
“Had a good sleep, krasavica?”
She nodded, hiding her blushing face in the crook of my neck. “Was I asleep for a long time?” she mumbled, tickling me with her lips.
“About eight hours.”
“Oh.” Her heart beat rapidly in her ribcage, hard enough for me to feel her pulse. “Are we landing?”
Checking the time on my gold Rolex, I stated, “Not in the next two hours or so. Oleg outdid himself this time. Clearly, he is eager to get home to his wife.”
She propped on my chest, resting her head on my shoulder. “He has a family?”
“Yep, his wife gave birth to twins.”
“That’s nice,” she whispered, her voice holding traces of longing. Her body molded into mine, in complete trust, as our hearts were in sync with each other. I never wanted to disrupt this amazingly peaceful moment, something that had never happened before in my life.
But unfortunately, such things as peace in our world were fleeting. And as much as I wanted to protect her from any kind of pain, she deserved to know the truth. “When Vitya came here earlier, it was because a bombing happened back at New York.”
She stilled, and then quickly asked, “An act of terrorism?” She shivered, clearly scared of it.
“No, my krasavica. The mansion… your father’s mansion was blown up, destroying the building, and killing almost everyone inside. A detonator bomb.” She rose swiftly, a horrified expression on her face as her eyes watered. “The medics came almost immediately, but this type of bombing is targeted specifically to an area in the house, and living through it is impossible.” Tears slid down her cheeks like a waterfall. The palms of her hands rested on her mouth as she shook her head from side to side, barely breathing.
“Daddy?” Then she started delivering hit after hit at me, painfully digging into my sides and slapping me. “You took me away from my dad and then blew up his house for revenge?” The hits kept coming, so I wrapped my hand around her wrists to restrain them. Then I flipped her on her back, while she still struggled to get away.
“Listen to me, Rosa.” My voice, colored with anger and authority, snapped her from the panic attack about to consume her. “I would never hurt your father. Not because I’m a good guy…” I had no intentions of sugarcoating the truth. “But because he is your father, and I know you wouldn't be able to forgive me.” She stopped sobbing. Her chest kept heaving up and down.
Palming her face gently, I held her eyes as I told her, “Your father is alive. He is in the hospital now”—she stilled—“along with Lorenzo. The guy has serious injuries. He lost his leg from the knee down. It was crushed when bricks fell on him. His face has deep wounds and severe burns. He’s lucky to still be alive. Doctors are still working on him. No one else from the home staff survived. The police are investigating his guests that day.” The report wasn’t much, but Dima and Damian were going to investigate further, promising me names by the end of the week.
Damian just got his life back along with Sapphire and Kristina, and the last thing I wanted was to interfere with his peaceful existence, but only he could help me with this situation.
Or rather, he was the only man on this planet I trusted implicitly. Plus, who else could find a mole other than Sociopath, who spent years luring his victims into his traps? Funny how both of us suffered the same torture at the hands of John’s clients, yet we were so different in our approach to life.
“My dad? Lucretia? The rest of the staff?”
My stomach flipped and my heart sank. I hated hurting her so much, but the bitter truth was better than a sweet lie, or so I’d heard. “Don has a concussion, burns all over his body, and they are working on his heart. It stopped at some point, but they brought him back.”
Sitting up, she followed me up and then wrapped her arms around me, squeezing me tightly. Her body trembled with sobs, my shoulder getting wet from her tears, but I let her have the comfort of my arms. “She was like a nanny to me,” she whispered, through the hiccups of her tears. “And now she is gone?” Leaning back, she wiped her cheeks with the sleeve of my shirt, determination filling her gaze. “We need to go back. My dad has no one but me. All those people need funerals, and it’s my responsibility to do it.”
She darted to the bathroom, but my words stopped her. “Rosa, we cannot do it.”
She frowned. “Yes, we can.” Standing up, we faced off with each other, ready for a fight. “If this stupid captivity keeps me away from my father, then you are no better—”
She halted, and I mocked, “Than who? Be very careful who you compare me to, krasavica.” Exhaling heavily, I added, “I’m going to share with you my earlier conversation with Vitya, and you have to stay rational and use your goddamn mind.” Her mouth opened to protest, and I covered it up with my index finger. “After that… if you decide to go back, we will fly back.” That calmed her down, and she nodded. If I learned one thing in this month of wooing, it was that my woman could be stubborn as fuck, and it was easier just to lay all the cards on the table with her.
My conversation with Vitya echoed in my mind as I told her the story.
“Dominic,” he said worriedly, as we both watched the news on TV, and Michael constantly spoke on the phone with Luke and Damian, so they’d have all the details. “This is not a coincidence.” Walking back and forth in the small space of the airplane, my mind hectically searched for reasons for this happening.
No one targeted two mafia houses within two days just for fun or without an agenda. If I thought Don’s men were behind Radmir’s injury, then…
“Don would think it was your payback.”
Resting my arms on the table, rage boiled up inside me, because one thing I didn't appreciate being was a fool. The idea of someone trying to place seeds of doubt about Don didn’t even enter my mind when I got news about Radmir. “Which means whoever is behind this has something against both of us.” Threading my fingers through my hair in frustration, I pointed out, “It’s not safe for Rosa to go back to the States right now.”
“Yeah, I highly doubt we have a mole in our system. It all goes back to there. We have a better chance of protecting you both in Moscow.”
The fucker who created a war between Don and me better fucking pray, because I would show him no mercy once I found out who he was.
Fuck with whomever you want, but don’t fuck with the Bratva.
And fucking never fuck with the pakhan’s woman.
After I finished telling her the story, she sat down from the weight of it. “But why would anyone do this?” Her voice held disbelief.
“We don’t know, but then it’s the Cosa Nostra and the Bratva we are talking about. Explanations might be endless. Our priority right now is to keep you safe, along with everyone else.” By the grim expression on her face, she didn't much like it, but tough shit. I would never jeopardize her safety. “Your dad would want it.” She turned her head to the side, as a single tear run down the bridge of her nose into the soft white sheets.
“Right. Business comes first.” Her angry murmur stung, but nevertheless, I couldn't argue with it.
Unfortunately, in the mafia world, business had to come first; otherwise, it could kill you.
“Rosa—”
“I’d like to clean up and stay alone for
the time being.” Everything inside me rebelled at the idea. I didn’t want to leave my female when her heart so clearly was shattered by the information she got from me. Judging by the crazy look in her eyes, she was on the edge of hysteria, and the last thing we needed was for her to lose her shit.
“Clothes for you are in the closet.” Her brows rose in surprise. “Thank Michael later.” The last part came off as an order, and before I screwed up anymore shit, I spun around to the door. But she stopped me, wrapped her arm around my waist, and rested her cheek on my shoulder blade. She seemed to be absorbing my strength into every bone in her body so she could breathe easier and deal with the problems better. We stood there without saying anything. She finally kissed my back, and then, with a sigh, she disappeared into the bathroom.
Rosa
My eyes were numb from crying. Sitting on the lid of the toilet, I realized that no matter how hard I tried to control my emotions, I just couldn’t. I wanted to be closer to Dad, so he’d have comfort knowing I hadn't abandoned him, but if what Dominic thought was true, we couldn't risk it. Dad would have been the first one to stop me from returning to the States.
Getting up with a disappointed sigh, I cleaned the fog off the mirror and studied my reflection. Droplets of water from my wet hair splashed down on my collarbone, which was covered in marks from Dom’s nips. My lips were red after our kisses, and my eyes were glazed.
I looked just like a woman in the throes of lust except for the traces of sadness on my face. What happened earlier in the bedroom… not even our garden encounter affected me so much. I was certain I was having an out-of-body experience where every small touch from Dominic pushed me deeper and deeper into the land where only pleasure and an electrifying connection between us existed. If he wanted to take my virginity right there, I’d have let him. And the sight of his cock…
Okay, so I googled naked guys, because, hey, a girl was curious. Watching porn felt weird and kind of made me fear sex more, but pics worked. But seriously, his was big, and well… big. I simply had no other words for it, and I seriously doubted it could fit inside, and I burst out laughing, because wasn't it such a cliché thought? All heroines in romance novels said the same thing, but they were proven wrong. So, I’d just shove my nerves aside, and do it when it was time for sex.
